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Plague
Name: Plague Physical Age: 22 True Age: 486 Gender: Female Faction: Sin Element: Essence 'Power' Gifted with the element of Essence and manymanymany years of practice, Plague is capable of healing up to moderately heavy wounds using energy alone, though the severity of the injury may tire her out to a degree. Her abilities amplify the numerous methods of healing she's learned over the years, ranging from standard procedures to even some that border on arcane with a slight voodoo touch. An odd ability she's acquired over the years is the ability to transfer wounds both to and from a victim- she is capable of passing a wound from herself to another person, or absorbing the other person's affliction onto herself. The wound shows up on the same place in the same state as it originally was (e.g. if the wound contained poison, the poison is transferred as well). It is, however hardly a gradual process and requires both Plague's focus and physical contact for this ability to be used. Plague may absorb or transfer only part of the affliction if the process is interrupted. She has an accelerated healing ability, able to heal injuries and afflictions to her person faster than other Sins. It is rumored that people feel a little fatigued after being around her too long...whether a plague-like aura remains around her or merely a trick of the mind is still to be confirmed. She holds little to no mastery in any other element, having secluded herself away from most of society all the while- away and unaware of Sins and virtues alike. 'Weapon' Plague isn't particularly interested in fighting, preferring to immerse herself in her job of healing, and damaging via transfer of wounds or poisons. She keeps a small kerambit either in her hair or in one of her pouches, and is fairly proficient in its use. Her blood retains some poisonous qualities, having been a plague carrier, and depending on the amount ingested/entering the bloodstream can cause minor illness to tissue necrosis that looks similar to severe frostbite. (However, you'd need to use quite a bit of blood for that- really only if you want someone's fingers to eventually fall off on their own..) 'Summon' A black mamba of gunmetal-grey coloring about 2 meters in length, Maras rarely speaks, if ever, preferring to speak only when required. He is often Plague's second opinion on matters, and faithfully guides her back to earth after one of her benders or trances. 'History' Caro's beginnings were simple- the daughter of a local village healer on Kham'hur's Mjovi island. It was only traditional that she was to take on the profession after her family, which she did with much gusto. Island life was as peaceful as it could get. Things changed one day as the elements seemed to turn on the villagers; crops refused to grow, or what little that did were spotted and sickly, thunderstorms caused excessive flooding. Then the plague. It was gradual at first, an ill villager or two, suffering from what initially seemed to be fevers and general malaise. Maybe a rash here and there. Caro's family were kept busy, and Caro herself as an apprentice was frequently tending to the number of patients that just kept rising. However, there was something strange about this seasonal..cold? A wave of fear swept through the village as the healers reported the first death, a middle-aged farmer, body covered in purple-black patches, several fingers and toes covered in dry rot. Blood trickled out of his nose, eyes tinged a pus-yellow and sticky with ooze. More and more began to fall in a similar manner, much to everyone's horror and dismay, with growing distrust towards Caro's family. Even they had their share of losses..Caro's father was one of the first few to go. The plague ran rampant throughout the village in just over a fortnight, claiming lives of young and old alike. Few left their homes unless absolutely necessary, and the bodies of the deceased were frequently thrown into a pile in the middle of the village, for everyone feared catching the mystery disease if exposed too long. Once in a while, the villagers would burn the corpses in an attempt at a mass cremation. Oddly enough, Caro had never once fallen ill throughout the ordeal. Suspicion and tension ran at its peak as the plague continued to claim more victims, and yet Caro stayed healthy. Villagers spread rumours that the girl was a witch, or worse up, a demon, bringing the plague into their peaceful settlement. The number of patients seeking her help dwindled, and most of her efforts were rewarded with hostility. A new rumour cropped that she was the one behind the plague..and that she was the cure for it too. Desperate and ill, a small group of village men approached her in the village, eyes burning with malice. Caro stepped back, intimidated as they circled her on the empty village path, thick ropes in hand. "No..please...I didn't cause this..please.." Noone paid heed to the shrieks and cries of the young woman echoing through the village, the men taking turns violating her in any way they could imagine. She begged and sobbed, she had nothing to do with this..she was sorry she couldn't heal them.. "Shut up, witch! You little demon wench, you imp, maybe you'd like a little taste of what our people have gone through from your sorcery?" "No..no please..mercy..have mercy..please..I beg of you.." Bloodcurdling screams cut through the air like the sharpest knife as they set her body aflame, the smell of burnt flesh clear as day. A man kicked the charred body aside; Caro's face a distortion of pure pain, curses of revenge lingering on blackened lips. -- After her initial post-revival meeting with Taint, the fresh immortal, drunk with anger and revenge stumbled aimlessly through villages and settlements alike, her uncontrolled aura spreading the plague like wildfire. People learned to lock themselves in their homes and steer clear of the disfigured creature that wandered the streets, the curious mess of long, straggly hair singed off in places, close to nude save for some haphazardly-placed bandages clinging onto burn wounds still oozing pus. This would continue for years to come, the demented Sin finding her way from area to area, spreading disease as she went. Amusingly enough, a day after she'd managed to somehow arrive on Desarith.. The volcano on Mjovi Island erupted. Something in Caro's mind began to stir, as if awakened from a long slumber. Her glazed-over eyes regained focus as she watched the ash cloud the skies, the eruption that had eaten up the whole island, no..reclaimed the island, as nature does. "Pl..ague.." Her voice, which had not formed a coherent word for decades..somehow that word just kept ringing in her head. She laughed, laughed like she had never done before, at the gleeful thought that the island villagers were now receiving what they'd done to her years ago. Burned alive! What a fitting end.. I ssseee you've finally regained your sssense of sself, misstresssss Plague.. Caro raised an eyebrow at the sight of a large black mamba sidling up to her side and slinking up her arm. Mayyybe..you would lllike to properly sssseee this world with new eyesss? '' 'Appearance' Plague stands at a height of an average 5'4", with a lithe, sinewy build. Her mane of brown waist-length hair is usually secured up with her kerambit, but can occasionally be seen worn loose as well. Random feathers, vines, flowers and beads are threaded into her locks- some for decorative purposes, some others for rituals done on the fly. Also, the ends of her hair are green. Noone, her included, knows why. xD Originating from Kham'hur, Plague's skin is of a medium tan, though her remaining burn scars are pinkish. She's bandaged in places, and is rarely seen without either bandages or ritual paint on her body. Occasions where she's been barefaced in public are rarer still. Her eyes are a bright sky blue, with one usually covered by her messy fringe. Plague wears mostly bandages and a mishmash of things put together, though she has been known to wear ordinary clothing on occasion. Her regular skirt is made of random scraps of things thrown together- it's functional enough for her. She's not known to wear shoes, but when required she wears a pair of soft black flats. She wears an assortment of beads, natural gemstones, cuffs and jewelry, and a count of 10 piercings; 4 on each ear and snakebite piercings. Plague tends to paint her face into something reminiscent of a ritual mask, in an attempt to intimidate strangers and/or visitors. It usually works. (also, because she's self-conscious about her burns. They've been healing, but at a surprisingly slow pace.) 'Behaviour' She has a generally motherly demeanour when she's not trying to scare trespassers away, and tries to heal her patients the best as she can. She's not particularly easy to offend either, but is slightly self-conscious due to her many burn scars. Although not particularly people-hating Plague prefers to keep to herself, remaining detached from most people and refraining from being overly-affectionate. Radiating a very faint aura of sickness probably doesn't help. Half the time her services are paid in either herbs or moonshine or even local plonk, which Plague very much so enjoys. While inebriated she's a little wilder and definitely much more extroverted.'Other''': After regaining her senses, Plague spent several centuries in a nomadic lifestyle, learning many forms of medicinal and healing arts through her travels. Recently, she's grown tired of travelling and has settled in the Tyrras Woods, garnering the reputation of a forest witch by the few humans who have crossed her, and those who occasionally seek out her help. Having never actively seeked out either Sin nor Virtue since her meeting with Taint, Plague remains ambivalent to the telepathic messages she receives and detached from their happenings. Ironically, the quickest way for her to absorb or transfer a wound is via sexual intercourse. *Badum-tsh!* Category:Characters Category:Sins Category:Essence